


Reflections - Part 2

by ShyVioletCat



Series: Unexpected [3]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: acotar next gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-06 20:57:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20513393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShyVioletCat/pseuds/ShyVioletCat
Summary: Part of the Unexpected series. It is Mor's POV from Reflections Part 1





	Reflections - Part 2

**Author's Note:**

> Follows on from Unexpected. Written pre ACOWAR

Mor awoke and stretched across the bed. The bed that was empty except for her. The bed that was cold anywhere that she wasn’t. She rubbed her eyes with her thumb and forefinger and sighed heavily. Looking over the Azriel’s side of the bed she found it undisturbed, meaning that he hadn’t come to bed last night after putting Leora to sleep. Which most likely meant he had slept in the rocking chair. Again.

He would suffer for that. The chair was made for her rather than for him, it didn’t accommodate for his wings very well. Mor had seen it in the store and fallen in love with it but had protested against getting. She could see how uncomfortable it would be for Azriel to sit in and said that they could find something that would work for both of them. The next day it was delivered to the house. What a ridiculous male. But Mor loved him, with all her being she loved him.

Rising from the bed Mor stretched out her body again and padded softly to Leora’s room. And there he was. Asleep is the rocking chair with Leora asleep in his arms, held in close to him. Mor stood in the doorway for a few moments just watching them, trying to seal this image in her mind. Then she paused a few moments more contemplating what she should do. It was still quite early and Azriel didn’t need to be awake yet. It would not take Mor long to feed and change Leora and hopefully the baby was tired enough she would fall asleep after. It was decided, Mor might as well let Azriel sleep a little longer.

Mor moved forward on silent feet and as gently as she could she lifted Leora out of Azriel’s arms. Both father and daughter stirred a little, identical expressions appearing on their faces before they both settled back into sleep. Mor contained her amusement as she continued her silent movements out of the room.  
Mor took Leora back to her and Azriel’s bedroom and propped herself against the headboard, leaning Leora against her knees.

“Leora, you need to wake up a little,” Mor whispered stroking Leora’s face lightly. The baby stayed asleep and Mor laughed. “Trust me, you don’t want to miss this feed you’ll be cranky the rest of the day and so will I.” Since Leora had started on solid food Mor’s milk supply had slowed and Leora now only fed in the morning, afternoon and before bed. And if Mor missed this feed she knew she’d be aching in a few hours, which was driving her to wake the baby even though she was sleeping contently.

“Leora,” Mor now leaned forward and kissed Leora’s cheeks and as she pulled back she could feel her waking up. Leora’s little face scrunched up at the indignation of being woken up and Mor chuckled, which only seemed to upset her daughter more. “You’re as sensitive as those other Illyrian babies.”

Now that Leora was conscious enough to function Mor set up for the feed. Once they were both content and settled Mor let her mind wander to the tasks she needed to do today. She needed to see what the inhabitants of the Hewn City were up to, get reports of any law breaking and subsequent punishments. Her cousin Landis had become steward of the Hewn City after the death of his uncle. He barely acknowledged their relation, to an outsider their interactions would be a man reporting to his superior. A superior he detested.

Mor’s mother would be there too and Mor felt a look of disgust pass across her face. Her ever passive mother, Venna, who was almost as dismissive of her as her cousin was. It was not entirely unfounded, Venna had almost been as furious as her father had when Mor had slept with Cassian, throwing away the value her beauty and power held. Then there was the fact that Mor’s husband had killed hers under the command of Rhys. It was the fitting punishment for selling Night Court secrets to Hybern.

Mor did not miss her father. She knew the world was better off without his conniving, hateful existence. He had never been a strong presence in her life, if anything Rhys’s father had been more of a father figure than Keir had ever been. And Rhys’s father had not been forth coming with his affections. Sometimes Mor felt as if there was a hollow within her chest, as if part of her was missing, that she was lacking in some way, because the absence of a father. When she was young their interactions mainly consisted of him patting Mor on the head and telling her how beautiful she was. As she grew older she saw even less of him, often they only saw each other when he requested her presence at some function to show Mor off, her beauty and her power. There was no nurturing, no playfulness, no love.

When Mor saw Azriel with Leora and the tenderness in which he treated their daughter she felt as if that part of herself was healing. It had started after Daeron had been born, seeing Azriel love their son completely and caring for him had mended her heart a little. But in had increased tenfold when Leora had been born. Azriel treated Leora as if she were some precious gem, his hands were gentle as were his words. Mor saw what should have been.

Azriel went out of his way to spend time with Leora, no matter that she would not remember these moments. But Mor knew Leora would remember being loved and she would always love her father. Because Mor knew Azriel would never hurt her. Azriel would rather harm himself than cause harm to his daughter, he would die before anything could hurt her. 

Leora started to doze while feeding and Mor took it as a sign to finish up to make sure she could change Leora while she was still semi-conscious. Mor summoned what she needed from the other room and changed Leora with practiced and deft hands. By the end of being changed Leora was asleep, Mor mused that the poor thing must be exhausted to be sleeping so soundly again. Mor carried her quietly back to her room and placed Leora in her cot. Taking another look at Azriel Mor considered waking him but knew he had been run ragged the past few days accommodating the Leora’s every whim. So Mor decided she would dress first, then wake him. The damage had been done to his body, a little while longer sleeping in the chair would do no further harm.

After bathing and putting on her make-up Mor dressed in a midnight blue halter neck that billowed out softly from the hips. The back plunged but the front did not, the neck was raised to where her collarbones met where a circle of fabric met at the back of her neck. She placed a sliver cuff on her wrist and left her hair loose. She was ready. Taking one last look in the mirror Mor left her room and once again entered Leora’s. Glancing at the cot Mor saw that Leora was still sleeping soundly, and so was Azriel. Mor approached him and gently shook his arm.

“Az, wake up.”

Azriel blinked as he awoke, shaking his head a little as if to shake the drowsiness off. He then started upright and winced, undoubtedly due to the pain he would be feeling in his back and wings. Once Azriel’s eyes were open completely they only lingered on Mor for a moment before darting to the cot and she saw him relax at the sight of Leora sleeping peacefully. 

“I’ve fed her and changed her,” Mor said as she held out her hands to him. “I didn’t want to wake you. I knew once you were up you wouldn’t sleep again.”

Azriel stood, taking her hands as he did so, and then he pulled her into an embrace close to his chest while he stated, “I didn’t close the window.”  
Mor breathed in his scent and let it calm her before huffing out a single laugh,

“You kept her warm enough.”

Azriel’s armed tightened around Mor and she could sense him stretching out his wings. How Mor would love to stay in his arms all day, stay here in her home with her family. But she couldn’t. She had responsibilities to her cousin and her court. Mor felt her heartbeat quicken in response to the thoughts of her impending departure and this time she tightened her grip on Azriel. With a heavy sigh, Mor then untangled herself from her husband and approached the cot and bent down to placed a kiss on her daughter’s forehead. Mor smiled as she watched Leora stir a little, but stay asleep. Mor knew that the love she felt for her daughter would never end.

In the quiet of the room Mor was sure she could hear Azriel’s heart beating in his chest, and she could have sworn she heard it halt for a beat. Then as if to make up for its traitorous faltering it tried to catch itself up by beating faster. Mor turned to Azriel and felt her smile widen as she saw the look of dumbstruck awe on his face. This male was too in love for his own good, but then again, so was she. Taking Azriel’s hand Mor led them from the room and Azriel closed the door behind them. 

It was time to go.

“I should be back by midday,” Mor said as she felt her own heart sink a little. Azriel’s hands reached for her face, each one cupping a cheek, then he kissed her gently. 

“I’ll be waiting.” Azriel said. The sound of his voice still gravelly from sleep sent shiver through Mor’s chest, the desire to stay home with him and go back to bed themselves was almost overwhelming.

“I can’t wait to get home to you,” Mor said and ran her hands over Azriel’s chest and shoulder as she walked away. The light shirt that he wore was almost a nonexistent barrier between her fingers and Azriel’s skin and her fingers seemed to burn at the contact. 

Mor made for the staircase but before she could get too far Azriel had hold of her hand. A surprised yelp escaped her mouth but was soon silenced as Azriel captured her lips with his. One of his hands moved to cup her and the other on the small of her back, pressing her flush against him. Mor sunk into the kiss and his embrace, revelling in his touch. 

Mor broke the kiss and she could feel the flush that had made its way to her cheeks. 

“You look beautiful,” Azriel said. They were still close enough to share breath and the triumphant smile on Azriel lips was almost enough for Mor to abandon all reason. Almost. 

“I know,” Mor said before she sauntered away, fully aware of her every movement she made and the uninterrupted view of the plunging open back of her dress she was giving him. Before descending the stairs, she turned to him and gave him a wicked smile that she knew would undo him. From the expression of his face she knew that she had accomplished her task. Midday could not come soon enough.

Mor winnowed to the House of Mist, her dress fluttering about her legs for a moment. Rolling her shoulders and Mor steeled herself for what she was about to encounter. She wound down the staircase that lead to the highest entrance of the Hewn City. Pushing the door open with her power the random High Fae waiting for her came to attention. Mor had no recollection of who he was, she didn’t even think she recognized him. He gave he a slight nod and walked away, not doubt to alert Mor’s mother and cousin of her arrival. 

Alone once again, Mor made her way down to the throne room. How she hated this city. She had hated Rhys at first for giving her charge of it, but then she understood the message it sent. The dreamer who escaped her cage, the dreamer who took charge of her own life, the dreamer whose dreams came true. 

When Mor arrived in the throne room it was empty, the inhabitants of the city no doubt sleeping off whatever debauchery they had participated in the night before. Mor’s steps echoed in the hall as she walked towards the throne and ascending the dais she sat on it. It was cold and hard, and not all comfortable. Mor’s cousin entered, flanked by Venna, both wore hard expressions and didn’t look too pleased to see her. Mor’s face was expressionless as she watched them approach.

By the Mother, she hated these people.

Silence reigned throughout the hall as the two fae came to a stop in front of the dais. The look of distain on the faces of her relations made Mor pull her lips back in a vicious smile.

“Seeming as it’s just the three of us, who don’t we take this somewhere a little less grand?” Mor said as she stood and glided past them. She knew if would frustrate them having to be summoned to the throne room and then ushered somewhere else, having to be led around pointlessly. Mor now led them to a council room that was close enough to not bother her, but far enough away that it would irk her mother and cousin. Mor sat at the head of the table and Landis and Venna sat further down.

“Begin. I have other matters to attend to,” Mor said, her voice emotionless.  
The two other fae bristled at the command and after a moment’s hesitation, Landis began to give his report.

The occupants of the Hewn City have been busy. Mor tried not to slump forward and run her hands over her face, instead she only leaned back slightly in her chair a look of contempt on plastered on her face. It was to be expected, this was the first report that they had officially made since before Leora’s birth. Azriel had called a stop to the visits when she reached the eight month mark adamant she didn’t need the extra stress and she had indulged him. And looking back Mor had been lucky she had, with Leora being born three weeks early she would have hated for her to be accidentally born in this city.

Food had been set on the table shortly after they had seated themselves and Mor had grabbed a nondescript pastry to sustain her. Yet, hours later, Landis still drawled on. It seemed to her that he may have been doing so on purpose just to draw out the visit. He went in the details of almost every offence that had occurred, minor and major, then about marriges and other apprently notable things. This was no doubt some passive ploy by her mother to cause her inconvenience. Her mother, who had little to know interest in her family. In the times that Venna had seen Daeron she had barely looked twice at him. The fact that he looked so much like his father probably didn’t help. Now Venna had another grandchild and Mor wondered if she even cared, if Venna was even curious about the child.

It would not phase Mor in the slightest if Leora never met her grandmother, or any other of her blood relations. Mor never wanted her daughter to step foot in this city. She never wanted the filth that stewed here to touch her. This city would only harm Leora, like it had harmed Mor. Even before everything this city had felt oppressive to Mor and activities of the inhabitants never held any allure to her. Mor had revelled in the sky and open air and the light, as she knew Leora would. The Hewn City was none of those things. Although Mor knew that Leora was a shadowsinger, she did not fear the shadows that would someday follow her daughter. Mor knew those shadows wouldn’t harm Leora, if anything they would protect, serve and comfort. Much like Azriel’s had for him, and often for Mor as well. The whispers in the night that told Mor when he returned from a mission and those that brought him to her side when she sat huddled in the dark after a nightmare. Mor knew Azriel hated the fact that his daughter had inherited his gift, but Mor saw it for what it was. A gift.

Mor flicked her eyes to the clock, it was almost two. Mor withheld her frustrated groan and looked back to Landis.

“And that is everything you need to be informed of,” he said. Finally.

“From your reports, it seems you still have this city working well in my absence,” Mor said examining her nails.

“If I am no longer needed,” Landis said as he stood and Mor dismissed him with a wave of her hand. 

Venna did not rise to leave, instead she stayed seated and Mor eyed her suspiciously as they waited for Landis to leave the room. When the door clicked shut Venna turned to her daughter.

“I see you’re not pregnant anymore,” Venna said, her voice as cold as ice.

Mor sat up a little straighter, her mother would surely have heard through some channel of information that she’d given birth. There was no reason for her to enquire about it now, no reason for her to take an interest. “Very observant Mother.”

“Did you bring it with you?” Venna asked.

‘It’, not ‘her’. There was no way her mother hadn’t heard. Mor knew Venna was playing some game, she just didn’t know what it was, and really, she didn’t want to stay long enough to find out.

“Why would I bring my infant child to this rotting pit?” Mor said bracing her hands on the table.

“The child has family here,” Venna said coolly. Mor let out a disbelieving laugh.

“Mother, I never knew you knew how to make a joke.”

Anger flashed in Venna’s eyes. “I am entitled to know my granddaughter.”

With her arms already braced on the table, Mor was on her feet within half a moment, her whole being was humming with anger and her power bubbling to the surface. Venna had enough sense to look a little scared. Venna knew, she knew Leora was a girl. And now the interest… it made Mor want to be sick.

“You lost that entitlement when you failed so gloriously as a parent,” Mor said through gritted teeth. “We’re done here.”

Mor strode from the room, not giving her mother a second glance. Some of citizens of the city had come out from whatever hole they had been sleeping but soon made themselves scarce when they saw Morrigan approaching, fury so clearly written on her face.

Mor wound her back up to the House of Mist and made it to a sitting room before she crumpled, her body no longer able to support her. She fell hard into a chair and her hands found her face. She was breathing hard and could feel sobs building in her throat. Her mother… how she hated her. In that moment Mor promised herself she would never allow herself to do anything that would make Leora hate her as much as Mor hated her own mother.

Mor winnowed to the front doorstep, if only to give her another moment to compose herself. Sighing and trying to shake off the last lingering feelings from the Hewn City Mor opened the front door. 

“Leora, guess who’s home.” Mor hear Azriel’s voice say.

They were in the kitchen then. Mor made her way to them and coming into the kitchen she saw the concern on Azriel’s face as he took her in. She tried and failed to give him a reassuring smile. Then, quieting her footsteps and little, Mor snuck up to the high chair where Leora was still unaware of her presence. Then is a swift, fluid moment, Mor appeared in Leora’s line of sight.

“Hello baby girl!”

Leora let out a delighted squeal, then said “Mama!”

Mor blinked once in surprise, then turned to Azriel to confirm he had heard it as well. The expression on his face was confirmation enough and Mor turned back to Leora and lifted her from the high chair. She was covered in drool and crumbs, but Mor didn’t care. In this moment, she was too happy to care. 

“Mahh-ma,” Leora said again, and she placed and hand on Mor’s cheek. Mor could feel the that the tiny hand was covered in mess but made no movement to remove it. 

“Mama, Mama!”

The sound was music to Mor’s ears. Leora’s first word was her. And after today Mor hadn’t realised how badly she needed to hear that word from Leora. The love and joy that was said with it. Not coldness, not hatred, not disgust. Love. So much love. 

Mor nodded and kissed Leora’s forehead, “Yes, that’s right. I’m home. Mama’s here!”

“Mama!” Leora squealed again and that’s when Mor’s resolved failed her. She closed her eyes and tears streamed down her cheeks. Mor could not recall hearing a more beautiful sound. Opening her eyes Mor turned to Azriel and saw a single tear running down his own cheek. Mor smiled then, smiled and felt a great weight lifted off her. 

“Lunch?” Azriel asked and Mor nodded.

Kissing Leora’s head again, Mor tucked her in close as she sat down at the table as Azriel began to cook. Leora’s little arms were looped tightly around her mother’s neck and Mor held her as tight as she dared. In this moment, her world was perfect.


End file.
